Who Needs Normal?
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: Valentine’s Day special! It turns out; Sam never really wanted to be normal after all. Wincest, SamxDean, you are warned.


**Title: **Who Needs Normal?

**Author: **IndigoNight

**Feedback: **Yes please

**Summary:** Valentine's Day special! It turns out; Sam never really wanted to be normal after all.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural or the characters

**Spoilers: **Not really.

**Rating: **PG

**Warnings: **Slash, Incest, and cheesiness. Don't like; don't read.

**Dedication:** Written for my beloved Artemis, because I just don't know how to be normal either.

**Author's Note: **So, just a little fic written for Valentine's Day, I simply couldn't resist. Please read, review, and enjoy!

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Sam sighed, staring blankly at the storefront window, not really seeing it. It was a clear evening, crisp, but fairly mild for Ohio in February. He had never before in his life felt like such an outsider. Because you see, today was not just any day; today was February 14th. And Sam was alone.

Now, that, in and of itself, was not all that unusual, millions of people spent Valentine's Day alone, and it was perfectly normal to be depressed about it. The thing was, Sam wasn't really alone. He had someone, as strange and unusual as they were, he did have someone waiting for him to return from his 'walk'.

He thought back to the conversation that he had just left with a hollow ache in his gut, the ache that reminded him, yet again, that no matter how much he wished and tried he wasn't, and never would be, normal.

As if growing up in motels, or being raised as a warrior, or hunting the supernatural on a daily basis, or having some kind of freaky physic powers, or apparently being the anti-Christ or something wasn't enough. As if being in a freakin' _relationship_ with his _brother_ wasn't enough. He simply wasn't like everyone else. Hell, he didn't even really fit in with other people like him, with other hunters.

Of course, the whole thing really was his fault; he'd started it. He'd known that Dean wouldn't respond well, he knew that Dean didn't buy into all of that 'romantic crap', but he just hadn't been able to resist it.

As if a week of build up, watching the commercials and seeing the candy and hearts, or better yet, the little bears holding heart shaped candies everywhere hadn't been enough, all day it had been like the universe refused to let him forget exactly which day it was. It turned out that the population of the small, back country town they happened to be staying in at the time seemed to be made up of a majority of young, freshly in love, overly romantic couples. Holding hands down the street, feeding each other, giggling in that couple-ish way that starry-eyed lovers do, having picnics in the park, all of the things that Sam would never admit to wishing for, especially not to Dean.

Dean didn't do romance, that was just the way he was. He didn't hold hands, or make googley eyes with anyone, especially not another guy, especially not his brother.

As it was he was standing outside of some convenience store, staring at a display of white stuffed bears holding heart shaped bags of candy that said 'I love you' on them through the window. Behind him was a large park that was lit with hundreds of little candles by the many couples having romantic evening picnics.

He shivered a little. He'd been in such a rush to get out of their motel room he hadn't even remembered to grab his jacket, which was just the icing on the cake.

He was still berating himself for even opening his mouth. It had been such a stupid, stupid thing to suggest, going some place _nice_ for dinner? What the hell had he been thinking? Oh, but it got better. Naturally, his stupid mouth hadn't stopped to consult his brain before answering Dean's surprised, "Why?" with the he'd thought obvious truth of, "Because its Valentine's Day." He was lucky Dean hadn't full out laughed in his face. Really, as far as he was concerned, he'd gotten off easy with Dean's surprised sputtering of, "Uh… I dunno…"

As soon as he realized what he'd said, Sam could have bitten off his own tongue. Seriously, what the hell? Sure, he wanted it. Of course he was jealous of all of the oblivious romancers surrounding him. But he had never, ever in his wildest dreams thought of even implying that to Dean.

He'd been mortified, the only thing he could think of was escape. So he'd muttered a quick, "Never mind, forget it. I'm going to get some air," and fled. He couldn't go back to their motel, couldn't face his brother, because he knew as soon as the shock wore off, the mocking would begin.

He had to carefully resist the urge to punch the nearest lamppost, reminding himself that cement poles are not the best choice in punching bags.

Finally, he turned back towards the motel. He had been gone for at least an hour and wad now chilled to the bone. He could only hope that Dean wasn't waiting for him with a volley of mocking remarks.

He dragged his feet as he walked, dreading facing his brother. However, the sight that met him when he finally entered their room was the last thing he'd ever expected.

Dean was standing next to the small motel table, half way through lighting the small cluster of candles that made up a centerpiece between what was obviously two TV dinners dished out onto paper plates. There were several dozen other candles placed at various points around the room, giving off a nice orange glow. To top it all off, sitting beside what was obviously meant to be Sam's plate was a single rose and a little stuffed bear holding candy hearts, exactly like the ones Sam had been staring at for the past hour.

To say Sam was speechless was a gross understatement. He stood frozen in place in front of the door, gapping wordlessly at Dean.

His brother shifted uncomfortably, clearly not sure what to make of Sam's reaction. "Its not much," he muttered, and Sam was even more surprised to see… no way, Dean was _blushing_?!?

Sam opened his mouth, attempted to say something, failed, attempted again, and just barely managed, "I…"

Dean shifted again, looking even more uncomfortable, "I know its not what you were imagining, and its not fancy or anything. I just… I thought… never mind, its stupid." Dean turned away.

Sam stepped forward, still stunned and turned Dean back to face him, his eyes uncontrollably misty. "Dean, thank you," he managed, the soft whisper that those three simple words were spoken in saying more than he could have in a thousand words.

"Ah, dude, don't go all teary on me, its not that big a deal," Dean huffed, but he was smiling.

Sam could only lean in and capture Dean's lips, savoring them, and thinking that maybe not being normal wasn't so bad after all.

At length Dean pulled away, smiling, "Foods getting cold," he murmured. Sam laughed, he couldn't help it; it just forced its way out, releasing all of the tension.

He took his seat, automatically picking up his rose and smelling it. Dean was watching him, laughing at him quietly, but honestly, at the moment he didn't care.

They began eating in silence, stealing subtle glances at each other over the candles.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, after several minutes.

Sam was taken aback, "Sorry? What for?"

"For not being normal," Dean was staring intently at his plate, pushing his food around absently, "I know that's what you want, and I tried," he glanced around at the candles and the table, "But… really, I just don't know how."

For a long minute, Sam didn't know what to say again. But in the end, there was nothing he could say but the simple truth; even if it was a truth he was only just beginning to realize himself. "I don't want normal, Dean. I thought I did, but really, I wouldn't trade this… what we have, this life with you, for anything."

They stared at each other for a long moment, both reading the truth in the other's eyes. Then they simultaneously were on their feet and entangled in each other's arms. A passionate kiss was shared to seal the chick-flick moment, the kiss was deepened, and several hours later they were comfortably curled up in bed, arms around each other, dozing off as they pretended to watch TV.

So maybe it wasn't a _normal _Valentine's Day celebration, but it fit them. It was just the way they were, and they wouldn't have given that up for the world.


End file.
